


(Won't) Kiss You This Christmas

by Josies



Series: No Saints Without Sinners [13]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/M, Friends With Benefits, One Shot, Pining, Post-SR2/Pre-SR3, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 07:45:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13003092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josies/pseuds/Josies
Summary: The Boss and Johnny avoid a party neither of them wants to attend, ending up spending their first Christmas together, instead.





	(Won't) Kiss You This Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was listening to a random Christmas playlist on Spotify and Kiss You This Christmas by Why Don't We came on and I was like... yeah, _perfect_. This isn't full-blown fluff, but it's as fluffy as two ~~sociopaths~~ emotionally challenged people can get at this point. They talk about their mothers in this one and I'm gonna write about them more later (I've got a lot of headcanons about Johnny's family lol).
> 
> Hope you're all having a lovely Christmas! And if this time of the year is generally bad for you, I hope this dumb fic helps, at least a bit.

 

* * *

**December 2009**

* * *

 

Johnny walks out of the parking hall he left his car in. He shoves his keys into the pocket of his jacket as he heads toward the lobby to take a lift upstairs. It's Christmas Eve and he's looking for the Boss. All of the crew, down to every freshly canonized new member, are celebrating over at Purgatory. Everyone, except for Doris, the one person they're all expecting to hang out with tonight. Johnny tried to call her phone, and all the prepaid numbers, too, but all the phones were turned off. He's not too worried about her, even if she's been a little reckless lately. Though _a little_ might be an understatement, he still knows she can handle herself, no matter what gets thrown her way, because if nothing else, she will stay alive out of sheer spite. But the party took a wild turn already after six in the evening, and he began to feel like he needed to get out of the HQ himself, so he signed up for a one-man search party.

Doris told him earlier that month that she didn't want anything special for Christmas, and she even told him not to get her any presents. As someone who doesn't like to celebrate his own birthday, he was fine with it, didn't question her decision. And due to that, he figured she turned her phones off because she simply wanted to spend time in her own company.

He knows there are three places she goes to when she wants to be alone — their old crib in Barrio, the crappy house she bought next to the University, and her new crib behind the Rounds Square Mall. He decided to visit the latter first, and judging by the over-enthusiastic pit bull launching at him the second he opens the door with the spare key Doris gave him, he guessed right on the first try.

"Yo, Chico," he says, chortling at the bow tie and the sparkly reindeer antlers he's wearing. Most people would think it's scary to have a pit bull of his size launching at them, but Johnny's known him since he was just a tiny puppy, and he also knows that Chico's so sweet he won't even play with a squeaky toy because he's afraid of hurting it. He's basically a big bundle of joy and kindness, which makes it very hard not to be fond of him.

The dog manages to knock the antlers off while jumping up to try and lick his face. It takes Johnny a moment to calm him down. "What's up, buddy? Where's Doe?" He asks as he leans down to grab the antlers, putting them back on his head.

Chico licks his chin as a thank you, maybe, then barks excitedly, jumps around in a circle and runs off down the hallway. It's what he always does when Johnny asks him for Doris, happy to bring him to his owner. Johnny closes the door behind him and kicks his snowy shoes off before following him.

"Who came to see you, baby? Is it Johnny? Did he come to bring you some Christmas lovin'?" She asks in an overly affectionate voice as her dog jumps up on the couch to give her cheek a joyful lick. She plants a kiss on his snout, and then he jumps off the couch and runs back to Johnny, escorting him the rest of the way with his tail wagging.

There's a fire crackling in the modernly designed fireplace and the pool table's been replaced by a mostly traditionally decorated Christmas tree, with some questionable items added to it, like hand grenades, stripper business cards and hundred-dollar bills. A miniature Saint of all Saints hangs on top.

"You look comfy," Johnny says when he makes it to the living room, scratching the dog by the ear to keep him from jumping around and knocking things over.

She's wearing pajamas, a thick, pink bathrobe and a fluffy pair of slippers, holding a cigarette in one hand and a wine glass in the other. She wiggles her feet and nods. "I feel comfy."

"Why the fuck's your phone off?"

"The battery probably died." She shrugs her shoulders. It's a bad excuse, or more of a lie, really, but she doesn't care.

Johnny frowns. "Yo, don't give me that."

She purses her lips and buries herself deeper into the couch. Of course he sees through her. He's used to her lying all the time, about big things and small things, even when she doesn't have a reason to do it. He lets it slide when there are other people around, but when they're alone, he's not afraid to call her out on it.

"Shouldn't you be at the party?" He continues, folding his arms over his chest.

"I don't wanna be there."

"You sick, or somethin'?"

"No," she says as she blows out smoke and reaches for an ashtray to put her finished cigarette in.

"Then why'd you decide to throw a party?" He asks.

"It's for the crew. All the booze and hoes are paid for. I think everyone deserves some celebration after all that's happened. It's a present."

"Everyone's kinda expectin' you there, though."

"I'm sure the kids will manage without me," she says with a subtle grin. "I might pop in on Saturday to check nobody's died."

"Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Today's Thursday."

"It's a three-day party."

"And how much money exactly did you put into it?"

"Just your next year's budget for weapons and ammo," she says casually as she reaches for a bottle on the coffee table to refill her glass.

He blinks and frowns, thinking she's being serious for a second. "Yo, don't say shit like that."

She chuckles. "Shouldn't you be at the party?"

"Everyone kept askin' after you, so I came lookin'." He pauses for a second, staring at the television, getting lost in his thoughts before deciding to just go the honest way, unlike her. "Kinda didn't wanna be there, either."

She nods and taps on an empty space on the couch with her hand. Johnny takes his jacket off and goes to sit next to her. Chico follows him, jumps up on the couch and falls down to lie on his side right over both of their laps.

Doris grunts. "Jesus! You ain't a small lapdog. Stop crushin' me like this."

The dog just gives her a little, happy bark before setting his head down on her lap. His tail keeps wagging.

Johnny chuckles and pets his back. "He's just happy."

"He's always happy, he's literally incapable of any other mood," she says as she scratches her dog's head. "You wanna get comfy, Johnny? Bet we could fit you into somethin'."

"I'm good."

"Wine?"

"Why you drinkin' wine?"

"I decided to have pizza and you gotta have red wine with pizza. Makes it fancy."

He looks at the half-full bottle right next to the full one on the coffee table. "I ain't an expert on wines, or nothin', but I think that's rosé."

"Eh," she swings her hand, "close enough."

"Where's the pizza?"

"Haven't ordered it yet."

"Good. I want pepperoni with extra cheese. Pass me the wine."

"Take a glass." She points at a spare glass on the coffee table. "We shall be classy tonight, Mister Gat."

"If I'm gonna drink pink wine, Miss Moreno, I'm gonna drink it straight outta the bottle," he replies.

"Fine, but when the food comes, you're switchin' to a glass."

"Fine," he says as she hands him the bottle, settling for the compromise she offers. It's not like her to do that. "Wait, are you expectin' someone?" He asks after realizing that there is, in fact, a spare glass on the coffee table. Just one.

"I don't know." She shrugs. Telling Johnny she waited for him to come around isn't an option. "Was kinda hopin' they'd send someone hot to deliver my pizza."

"Oh, like a guy in a Santa suit who opens the pizza box and then his dick's right in ya face with a li'l Santa hat on top?"

She giggles into her glass. "You've seen that movie, too?"

"Yeah." He nods. "It's a classic."

"I'm pretty sure that's the exact section I found it at in that old video rental store in the Row. Wonder if the owner kept it when they tore his shop down."

"We could find him and ask." Johnny pulls out his smokes, lights one, tosses the pack and his lighter on the coffee table, and puts his feet up next to them. "You know what bothered me about it, though?"

"What?"

"I wouldn't let my pizza get cold like that. It's unrealistic."

"I know, right? I'd just have the guy do me from behind while I eat the pizza." She pauses to light up another cigarette to accompany him. "Like, dick is good, but pizza is _pizza_."

"I hear ya," he says, nodding, as he pulls out his phone to write Shaundi a message, telling her everything's cool, that there's no need to worry, and that the girl should just enjoy the party. "First Christmas we spend together, huh?" He asks after turning his phone off, too.

"Yeah. It's our first Christmas together, too. Right, baby?" She asks Chico in the same affectionate voice she always uses with him. The dog rolls around on his back with a gentle bark and she scratches his tummy. "I thought you'd be with your family, though."

"They're in Seoul. Bought tickets for all of them."

"That's a nice present," she says, turning her attention away from the cheesy telenovela she's watching to give him a smile. "Why didn't you go with them?"

"Like I said, it's the first Christmas we spend together."

She smiles wider into her glass. There's something warm bubbling in her chest, but she figures it's just the wine. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not very Christmas-y."

"Yeah?"

"I hate it."

"Oh. You're the Grinch."

She scrunches up her nose. "What the fuck's a grinch?"

"You haven't seen it?"

"Obviously not."

He turns to look at her, appalled by her lack of knowledge of culturally important things. "Seriously? The green dude—"

"Oh, wait, that ugly-ass, furry dude?" She asks, her face shifting from a scrunched-up nose into a disgusted frown. "He looked like some kinda green gremlin, like, I didn't wanna watch that shit, man. I had nightmares of those little fuckers 'til late-nineties."

Johnny chokes on the wine over suddenly laughing so hard that she has to pat him on the back with an open palm while laughing herself at his struggles. Her dog gives them a worried look with his ears perked up.

"It's Christmas Eve, why you tryna kill me?" Johnny asks in a hoarse voice as the wine burns at his windpipe.

"I'm serious," she says and giggles, still holding her hand on his back. He coughs and clears his throat and she can feel his muscles shifting under the shirt.

"That's what you're scared of? Gremlins?"

"Who the fuck isn't?"

"You know, that's a fair point," he says, nodding and taking a sip of wine to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his throat, even though he knows it's not going to work. "I take it this wine ain't from Brown Baggers?"

"I don't think they even sell rosé," she replies as she settles back to her side of the couch. "I got the most expensive shit I could find."

"Do I wanna know?"

"Twelve hundred."

" _What?_ "

"Yeah. I got ten bottles."

"I can't leave you alone for a day without you gettin' yourself robbed buyin' some fuckin' rosé," he grumbles and then he angrily chugs down a good portion of the wine. She just laughs, keeping herself from noting out loud how there are hundreds of dollars flowing down his throat. Johnny's adorable when he's in a bad mood like that.

After fighting for an hour over what movie to watch, stuffing themselves with pizza and opening another ridiculously expensive bottle of wine, then fighting over which one of them gets to straighten their legs on the couch through the rest of the movie, Doris announces it's time for her to take Chico out for a walk. She refuses to change her clothes, so she wraps a scarf around her neck, pulls on a pair of boots, and grabs an unfinished bottle of wine for extra warmth. Johnny tells her how dumb she looks and she throws a snowball at him, making him drop the cigarette hanging between his lips. She shrieks when he catches her — too drunk to escape in time, or pretending to be — and picks her up by the waist. He drops her into a pile of snow as revenge, and her dog jumps right after her, naturally convinced she needs saving. Johnny has to dig her up and she uses the chance to pull him into the snow, too. He yells at her to _stop being such a fuckin' kid_ , but she just giggles and gives him a devious grin before planting a quick kiss on his nose. It's warm and it leaves him confused long enough for her to roll around and crawl out of the snow. He snatches the bottle from her to prevent her from running away.

They end up getting into a drunken snowball fight; Johnny claiming they're way too old for it, yet still throwing snowballs right back at her, especially after she sneers at him about his bad knee and calls him a grandpa, knowing his ego can't handle it. She's screaming and giggling the whole time, and spilling wine on the snow, and she makes him laugh, too. He lets her playful mood rub off on him, because after all the shit that's gone down, after the way they drifted apart from each other, after the amount of worry he's felt lately — it's good to see her like that. He wouldn't say she's happy, because he knows better than that, but she's showing more of herself than what he's seen in months.

They're both covered in snow when they get back inside. Doris sheds her wet and cold bathrobe carelessly on the floor. She kicks her shoes off and runs to the living room, swearing as she goes, and she wraps herself up in a blanket and falls on the floor in front of the fireplace in a fit of drunken giggles. Johnny watches her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'd tell you to have some wine to warm yourself up, but I think you've had enough."

"Shut up."

She makes it to the couch and she gets him to rub her feet by placing her feet on his lap and refusing to move them until he takes her cold toes into his huge palms to warm them up with a tormented sigh. Massaging her feet gets her distracted, though, which gives him an opportunity to decide which channel they watch. She lays on her back, chain-smoking, and every time the movements of his hands slow down, or stop altogether, she wiggles her feet to keep him going. When they're alone she likes to push the limits, to see what Johnny's willing to do for her. Makes her wonder if he'd be willing to do those things to someone else, or if he only does them for her.

"I feel like an unhappy housewife drinkin' wine and watchin' TV on Christmas Eve," she says a couple of hours later, swirling around the rosé in her glass. It's way past midnight and they just finished watching another movie. "My kids are sleepin' and my husband's at the strip club down the street. I grab a handful of Valium, wash it down with half a glass of wine and fall into a depressive coma-like state on the couch." She pauses to shove a handful of candy into her mouth, washing it down with the wine. She didn't drink for an hour, or so, and now it's going straight to her head. "On Christmas Day I burn the chicken roast after seeing the lipstick stains on my husband's collar. There's no wine left, my kids won't behave and my mother-in-law hates me. I cry in the bathroom for forty-five minutes straight. Then I continue livin' the grand lie that is my life with a faked smile on my face."

"That's disturbingly specific." He turns to her, looking concerned. "You okay?"

She leans her head on his shoulder and pouts. "No. Hold me."

Johnny snorts and shakes his head a bit, but he wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Seriously, though."

"It's a recurring nightmare."

"Good thing you ain't ever gonna be a housewife, then."

"How can you be so sure? What if I get thrown back in time into the fifties, or somethin', and I'll be stuck there livin' as some dude's miserable wife for the rest of my life?"

"First of all, you'd become a mob queen," he says. "Second of all, I won't let that happen."

"That's so sweet, Gat. It's disgusting." She puts the empty glass down on the coffee table and she leans in closer to him to put her hand on his cheek to hold him still while she kisses his other cheek. He sneaks a hand up to her thigh and she smiles. "I'm going to bed. Don't stay up all night," she whispers the words against his cheek. Then she lets go of him, running her fingers on his jawline, and she sways her way upstairs.

An hour later Johnny lies awake on the couch. He stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dog quietly snoring on the floor, being painfully aware of how Doris' lying in her bed above him. He's not entirely sure if her actions were an invitation, or if she just got flirty after drinking all that wine, as she often does. Drunk, high, or sober, she's always flirting around, and that's why it's hard to figure out whether she's being serious, or just a tease.

After the last time they slept together, he didn't feel good about himself, which is why he left before she woke, because feeling that way wasn't fair to her. It was just sex and that was one of the things he'd never felt guilty about before. He's felt guilty about many things since what happened to Aisha, things he has no reason to feel guilty about to begin with. He wants it to stop. It _has_ to stop.

Johnny sighs deep while dragging his hands over his face, rubbing at his eyes and cheeks, lifting his glasses up to his forehead. He slept with Doris about six weeks back, on her birthday, again. It took him a couple of days to get over his unreasonable guilt, but he's thought about her since then. A lot. Mostly how he wants it to happen again. So far their sexual encounters just seem to be forming into something of a birthday tradition. His birthday won't be coming for a while, but Jesus' birthday _is_ celebrated on Christmas, and considering she's catholic with some sort of twisted faith playing a part in the back of her conscience, maybe she's looking to celebrate tonight. Naked. In bed. With him, specifically.

He silently congratulates himself in his drunken mind for coming up with such brilliant reasoning for keeping the new tradition going. He kicks his blanket off, does his best not to step on the dog sleeping next to the couch, and he heads to the stairs, nearly bumping into the Christmas tree on his way. The second floor's dark, save for some dim, purple lights glowing on the walls. He spots her lying in bed near the windows and he walks up to her quietly.

"Doe?"

He sits down on the edge of the bed and she turns to look at him, blinking. Neither of them say anything. They just stare at each other in the dark for a while, until she moves over to make room for him. He slips under the covers, but instead of settling down next to her, he pushes her legs apart and leans over her body to kiss her neck. She wraps her arms around him, sinking her fingers in his hair, sighing like she's been waiting for this to happen for far longer than the past hour. She moves her hand down between them, wrapping her fingers around him, and he's quick to react to her touch, growing hard as she gives him a few slow pumps. She yanks his pants down impatiently, and he kicks them off, while she's already pulling the hem of his shirt up. Once she's thrown it on the floor to accompany his pants, he pays attention to what she's wearing, only to discover black, cupless babydoll lingerie with lace and a satin bow covering her small breasts. Unless she wore it under her pajamas, she changed into it before getting into bed, meaning she _definitely_ expected to see him upstairs.

Johnny raises his eyebrows, grinning a little. "Did you wrap yourself up like a present?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," she says with her head tilted, running a hand up his bare chest slowly to feel every muscle on the way, while her other hand works him down lower.

"Well, I changed my mind about this Christmas," he says as he leans down to kiss her jaw and thrusts back into her hand a little, "I do want a present."

"And what's that?"

"Lemme kiss you."

She snickers. "You _are_ kissin' me."

"I wanna kiss your lips."

"I'd say gettin' into my bed is a pretty big present in itself."

"Come on."

"You're lucky to get even that. You've been extra naughty all year long."

"Oh yeah? I'll show you extra naughty," he says as he disappears under the blanket to suck and bite marks all over her inner thighs, making her giggle and squirm, and yelp softly when he bites down on her skin a little too hard. Her giggling turns into soft moans as he switches his attention between her legs. He keeps her moaning and squirming for a while before he kisses his way back up.

"Where's—"

"In the drawer," she says as she swings her hand toward the nightstand on her right side.

Johnny reaches over to open the drawer and stick his hand in while she kisses his shoulder. After blindly rummaging around for a few seconds, he pulls out a pack of condoms. "You unwrap this and I'll unwrap you," he says, holding up one for her.

She purses her lips into a smile as she snaps it from between his fingers. She uses her teeth to tear the package open. Johnny undresses her, tracing her figure with his hands, and she helps him prepare, too impatient to wait any longer than necessary to feel him inside her again. He moves close to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, as he slides into her. He rolls his hips against hers and she moans without trying to hold back on showing off the pleasure she's feeling.

It's deliberately slow and quiet and nothing like the other two times before. It's deep thrusts and shaky breaths and fingers intertwined. They're becoming more familiar with each other — they're learning the sensitive spots of their bodies, where to touch, how to touch, what to do to make the other crave for more. Neither of them thought it could feel even better than how it already did last time, and they were both wrong.

Johnny moves up a bit to hold onto the headboard as his thrusts turn harder. She moves a hand against it, too, keeping herself in place and moaning in pleasure each time he reaches deep into her core. He leans his head down to kiss her jaw.

"Why you gotta feel so perfect?" He whispers into her ear, running his tongue along the shell.

She sinks her fingers in his hair and giggles between moans. "You know I do my best to tease you, baby-boy," she says as she moves her hips to meet his thrusts.

He slides a hand under her back and rolls them around on the bed, leaving her on top. She takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss his shoulders and chest, running her tongue over his nipples, all the while rolling her hips into his. She straightens herself up to get him deeper and he moves his hands to her hips, fighting between closing his eyes over how wet and hot she feels around him, and keeping them open to watch her ride him, admiring how beautiful she looks biting her lower lip with a faint, purple light above her bed illuminating her features. He slides his hands up to touch her breasts and she holds onto his wrists to keep them there.

When she picks up on the pace and her sighing grows faster, Johnny rolls them around on the bed again to get back on top. He looks for the right way to aim his hips, one hand between her legs adding to her pleasure, and after a few thrusts she gasps loudly as her lower back arches up.

"Shit—right there, Johnny. Do that again."

Johnny just nods, too out of breath to speak. It's difficult to focus on prolonging his own pleasure with the way she throbs around him. She grabs his wrist, squeezing her fingers around it hard to make him stop every time she's about to get thrown over the edge, reluctant to let it end. Her moans sound needy. On the fifth time her fingers lock harder around his wrist, she can't stop the pleasure from taking over, anymore. She lets go of him, her fingers clutching around the corner of a pillow instead right before she comes, her hips slamming into his and her mouth sighing his name. Johnny follows right behind, switching into short, deep thrusts, letting out a shaky groan after each, and dropping down low enough to have his chest pressing into hers.

She kisses his cheek as he breathes into her shoulder, heavy, slowly softening inside her, but not showing any intention of moving. She wraps her arms around him, holding him close, tracing the lines of his tattoo on the back of his neck with the tips of her nails. Shivers run down his spine. The warmth of his body makes her want to fall asleep under him. Johnny's like a radiator. Feeling his warmth without any clothes between them, touching each other in the most intimate way, feels completely different to just sitting next to him fully clothed. His warmth and scent are intoxicating, and she knows she's already developing a stronger craving for him. They stay like that until he gets tired of holding his weight on his arms, to keep her from getting crushed under him. He kisses her cheek before he rolls around to lay on his back.

They share a smoke and she wants to tell him how good it felt to have his body over hers, to have him inside her, but she doesn't want to be the one to break the silence. It's comfortable filling up her lungs with smoke in his arms, not having to say anything. Maybe there's no need to break the silence.

Johnny falls asleep before her. She watches the snow falling outside a little while longer, and then she dozes off on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

 

* * *

 

  
Doris stares at the pillow next to the one under her head. The infamous wine headache keeps reminding her why she usually doesn't drink wine one nasty pound at her skull after another. She curls up into a ball, holding onto the sheet tangled around her. She's never really thought of Johnny as the type of a guy who'd still be there in the morning, but pretending she doesn't feel bothered by it is surprisingly hard.

She makes it downstairs, wrapped up in a big blanket. The fire's died out and the apartment's chilly. There's nobody there, either, just her dog wagging his tail, happy to see her awake. She hugs him and kisses his head to tell him good morning. Then she sighs deep before dragging herself to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. She'll take him outside after she's managed to get some coffee into her system.

She's wrapping a towel around her head nearly an hour later when she hears noise coming from the kitchen. First she thinks it's just Chico knocking things over, as per usual, but then she hears a voice speaking. She's frowning as she steps out of the bathroom, not really up for hanging out with her brother, or whoever the hell else has decided to bother her. She's about to snap something mean at the intruder when she spots Johnny standing in the kitchen, in front of the stove with his back to her. Chico sits on the floor next to him, wagging his tail and staring up at him, clearly excited over whatever he's doing.

"Don't look at me like that, I ain't givin' you nothin'. You had your breakfast already," Johnny says, pointing at him with a spatula. He pulls it back quickly with a chuckle when the dog tries to lick it. Then he turns to glance at Doris. "Mornin'. You didn't take him out, right? I did that earlier."

She just blinks, baffled and a little hungover and still so damn sleepy. "Wait, am I still asleep, or are you... cookin'? Like actual, real food?" She asks.

"Sit down, I'm nearly done," he says as he turns back to the stove, ignoring her question. He points at the table behind her. "Got you coffee."

She turns around to spot a takeaway cup from Apollo's on the table. There's a box next to it, probably filled with jelly doughnuts. He knows she likes them. "Thanks," she says and goes to take a seat. She wraps her hands around the warm cup and quietly watches him for a moment. "I don't think I've ever seen you cook before. I didn't think you _can_ cook."

He shrugs his shoulders. "I know some Korean dishes."

"Oh, it's a Korean breakfast?"

"It's just some rice, kimchi, fried eggs, and soup my mom left in the fridge. Nothin' fancy."

"Your mom left you soup?"

"Well, it was in her fridge."

She raises an eyebrow behind her latte, swallowing and setting the cup back down on the table before speaking. "So, you went to your mom's place for a food raid?"

"Yeah."

"You're such a mama's boy," she says and laughs.

"Shut up." He turns the stove off and gets a plate for the eggs, trying not to step on Chico's feet, or tail. The dog runs to Doris, ready to beg for food from her. "She told me to wish you merry Christmas on her behalf before they left."

"Thanks."

"And she asked when you're comin' for dinner."

"I'll come every day until she's sick of seeing my face. I love everythin' she cooks."

Johnny chuckles. "You tell her that and she's gonna expect you to show up every day." He turns around to bring the food to the table, but he has to stop in his tracks when he sees her sitting there in her short, silky bathrobe, strands of pink hair sticking to her makeup-less face. She's concentrated on watching TV and petting her dog, so she doesn't notice him staring. Seeing her fully naked is more likely than seeing her without makeup on. He's never seen a more gorgeous sight in his life.

"She's forgiven you, then?" She asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. When she busted Johnny out, his sisters and grandmother were just happy to have him back alive and well, but his mother expressed deep disappointment in him for understandable reasons. He hasn't shown it, but Doris knows he feels bad about letting his mother down. He's always done his all to take good care of his family.

"Yeah," he manages to say without stuttering like a fool. He walks up to the table and sets the food down. Then he sits down across the table from her. "I mean, not fully, but I'm workin' on it."

"Good." She smiles. "My mom asked after you, too."

"Really?"

"I went to see her the other day and she said she wants to see you again. She likes you."

"Yo, I'm flattered, but—"

She kicks his leg under the table. "Not like that, you dumbass."

Johnny chuckles. "I'm game, if you are."

"You wanna see her?"

"Sure."

"Okay," she says, sucking her lips in to try and hide the smile that keeps pulling up the corners of her mouth. The same warmth bubbling in her chest from yesterday is back and this time it's hard to blame it on the coffee. "I'll take you with me next time."

"Great." It might not show on his face, but he's happy about what she just told him. He does notice her smile, though. "Now, eat your food before it gets cold."

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned they've slept together twice, though I haven't written about the second time yet (Christmas came around too fast), but I'll be posting that fic later at some point. I'll finish Rule #1 soon and then I'll be posting another longer fic (4-5 chapters) and some one shots, so keep an eye out for them. :) Merry Christmas and happy holidays!


End file.
